Trading Places, or Somes Professius
by madworldmadgirl
Summary: Hermione plays a prank on Pansy, and ends up falling for Draco in the process. Suitable for mature audiences only. This is the second upload, this time with defined chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The girl adjusted her slight frame to allow more light from her wand tip to glance across the page she was feverishly scrawling on. She wiped away a stray tear and pushed her dark hair out of her eyes, choking back a sob as she detailed the last twelve hours to her diary. It was days like this that Pansy felt that her only friend was this small book, in which she'd meticulously recorded the goings on of her life for the last five years. She let out a shaky laugh, thinking of the boy who had given her the bewitched little book on their first train ride to Hogwarts.

_"My mother bought it, actually," the little fair-haired boy told her as he was unwrapping a wriggly chocolate frog. "She told me girls like that sort of thing, so I assumed it would be fitting."_

_"Thank you, Draco. It's lovely. My favorite color." She smiled. This boy, this gorgeous, thoughtful little wizard, would one day be her husband._

_"I know it is. I hope you like it," he said, standing to pull a bag out of the luggage compartment. "Want some more sweets?"_

_"No, I didn't eat breakfast. The house elves were fit to be tied this morning. Out of their muddled little heads. Father beat them soundly, but nothing gets through to the little ingrates." She flipped through the blank book, thinking of what she would write in her first entry._

_"I hate the stupid things. I wish we could just wipe them out." He stuffed a handful of Drooble's into his mouth and peered out the window, anxious for his first look at the majestic, old castle._

_"But you can't, everyone wants to cry about it. Meddlesome mudbloods and their stupid laws." She tucked the little book into her robe and smiled back at Draco._

_"I wonder how many mudbloods we'll see at Hogwarts. Father so wishes to have them locked out, but that old goat Dumbledore won't allow it. Someone needs to show the old fool his place, if you ask me." He sneered and settled back into his seat beside her._

_"Oi, Malfoy, guess what happened!" The large, lumbering 11 year old jerked the door open to allow himself and his equally large, ugly friend inside the compartment._

_"What, Crabbe? This isn't one of your stupid tales, is it?"_

_"No, he's not putting you on. This little mudblood is going all about the train, whining about some toad. Bushy hair, all teeth. Probably the ugliest mudblood I've ever seen." Gregory Goyle plopped down beside Vincent Crabbe, and proceeded to help himself to Draco's large stash of sweets._

_"Well, she'd better not try that whiny mudblood spiel with me. I'll put her in her place - on the ground." Pansy smiled at Draco, waiting for his approval._

_"That's the spirit, Pans. We don't take rubbish off of mudbloods or their blood traitor friends." Draco clapped her on the back and tossed her a pasty. "Eat up, you've practically withered away over the summer."_

_Pansy gave him another grateful smile, then took a large bite out of the pumpkin pasty. At home, she never felt quite safe, between her father's bad temper and her mother's drunken rages. But here, with these boys, Pansy was truly someone special - the little princess of Slytherin house._

Pansy sighed and dropped her quill. Things hadn't changed much, though at the wise age of 16, Pansy felt that she was now soon to be the queen of Slytherin house at Hogwarts, with Draco by her side as king. She looked around her spacious bedroom, at the souvenirs and trinkets of her last five years at Hogwarts. If it weren't for that damnable Harry Potter and his stupid friends, the mudblood Granger and the insipid, blood traitor Weasley, she could have added green and silver Cup Winner banners, more awards from the esteemed Dolores Umbridge, and things of which Pansy could only dream.

But no. Those meddlesome three, the Golden Trio, would ruin everything for her and her friends. She let out a sardonic laugh - everything they hoped for, all their dreams had been dashed by those idiot Gryffindors. If only she could catch them alone -

Her thoughts were interrupted by the scratching of a claw on her window. She slipped from her bed and unlocked the window, allowing the majestic falcon entrance. She pulled the letter from his beak and dropped a handful of nibbles as payment in front of the bird. As he gobbled through the treat, she ripped open the envelope, hoping for good news from her sweetheart. Her face fell at the meticulous handwriting; it was Draco's, indeed, but the message was almost unbelievable.

_Pansy,_

_I hope that you won't be angry with me, but I must tell you the truth. I may never see you again. Even if the DE have taken control of H, I cannot promise that I will be safe within the walls. I want you to know that I'll always value your friendship, camaraderie, and everything you have done for me, but I must end our betrothal. I cannot hold you to a promise made so long ago. So much has changed that I daresay we won't know each other from strangers when we next meet. I hope this letter finds you well, and wish you all the best in your life._

_Truly,_

_Draco_

Pansy sat, mouth agape, trembling on her bedside until her mother's voice jerked her out of her reverie.

"Pansy, get down here! Now!" The screeching tone of her mother's voice had always grated on her nerves, but never had it felt so futile to fight against the woman as it did after reading the short, world-stopping note from her first, only, and true love.

She dragged her feet down the staircase, slowly cajoling herself to replace her sorrowful frown with the cold, cruel look her mother had taught her from the moment she was born. By the time she was in front of the large, heartless woman, her face and countenance were stripped of all emotion but self-centered entitlement.

"What do you want, Mother? Must you howl so? You sound like a crippled, old carrier owl." She sat down stiffly in the chair to her mother's left, by her weaker hand.

"Don't talk to me that way, you ungrateful little cow. Your father will be home soon. He carries news of the fight."

"This was so groundbreaking that you had to call me down from my nap?" The girl sneered and rolled her eyes at the bloated, perspiring older woman.

"He has news of the Malfoys. I thought surely you would like to hear it." She took a long draft of her whiskey and let out a wet belch.

"You are so repulsive, sometimes I can't believe you're my mother at all." The girl stood. "And in fact, I do not care to hear news of any Malfoy at all. I wipe my hands of them." She turned to leave, but was wrenched back by her mother's pincer grip.

"What is this? Yesterday, you would have jumped for news of Draco. What has happened?" The woman didn't show much concern as she did annoyance, and made no attempt to hide it: as usual.

"He is a callous, cruel, insensitive, loathsome little wanker. That's what. I wish I had never had the displeasure of meeting him in the first place, and hope sincerely that I should never be forced to see him again." Pansy jerked her arm from her mother's grasp, noting with disgust the little red welts coming up on her thin arm as she marched with her head held high back up the stairs and away from the woman.

Pansy woke in the morning on a damp pillow with tears still on her cheeks. She wiped her face roughly and tossed off the rough blanket, making her way across the small room to her adjoining bathroom. Eyes closed in a yawn, she didn't notice until she slammed into the wall that the bathroom door was not where it usually was. Rubbing her sore nose, she squinted around the small, foreign bedroom with growing concern. All her green and silver decorations had been traded for red and gold, and books lined the walls, on bookshelves, on the small student desk by the window, in the closet. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and fainted away on the shaggy carpeting.

She came to several minutes later at the feeling of a cool, wet cloth being placed on her feverish forehead. "What happened?"

"I heard you scream, darling, and when I got her, you were fainted dead away on the carpet. Are you ill?"

Pansy squinted at the woman. She didn't know her, perse, but she was oddly familiar. She took in the woman's mousy brown curls, her muggle clothes, and risked another quick glance around the room. She spied more red and gold on the opposite wall, and fought back a wave of nausea. "Where am I? Who are you?"

The woman paused. "You're at home, dear. If you are ill, dear, I can call Dr. Chapman." The woman's cool hand felt good on her cheek, but Pansy couldn't help but be repulsed. This was a muggle, and not just any muggle. This was Hermione Granger's mother. This was Hermione Granger's bedroom.

"What am I doing here? Where are my parents? How did I get here?" Her voice was taking on a helpless, pitiful tone that sounded foreign to her ears. She raised up to get a better look at her surroundings, but the woman pushed her back down gently.

"You need to rest. I'm calling Dr. Chapman." The woman reached for a strange looking object on the bedside table and pushed a long series of buttons, then held the thing up to her ear. As she began to talk into the thing, Pansy took the opportunity to study what was around her. Surely, this was a sick joke. Or a dream. She began to feel hopeful, and thought maybe Draco's letter had also been fiction, that she was still betrothed to the boy she had spent so much of her life with in happiness.

"Dr. Chapman will be here shortly, dear. You do look pale. Have you been trying drugs, Hermione?"

Pansy's thoughts stopped dead. The name bounced around inside her skull, but her mind would not admit the possibility. She was convinced this was all a sick joke, a prank, a little laugh put on by the boys. She let out a hesitant, humorless laugh. "Okay, you got me."

"What do you mean? Hermione, you don't sound yourself today." The woman's face was filled with true, motherly concern.

Pansy's throat felt like it was closing, shutting off vital air to her lungs. She managed to cough out a weak response and lie back as the woman instructed. She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to wake up from this sick nightmare.

"I'm calling your father. You look positively ill. And all this talk..." The woman shook her head and took the strangle muggle contraption out into the hall, closing the door firmly behind her.

Pansy pushed back the rough blanket and stood, tiptoeing her way to a decorative mirror on the mostly unblemished wall space. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes beheld the girl in the mirror - thick, bushy hair, a smattering of freckles across the delicate nose and slightly chubby cheeks, and the ugliest pair of pyjamas Pansy had ever seen in her life. She fainted away on the spot, her eyes rolling back into her head, letting out a squeaky sigh as her limp, curvaceous body hit the floor with a thud.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione sat up in the fluffy, over-sized bed and stretched out her arms in a languid yawn. Her nude body felt light as she made her way across the large room and into the adjoining bathroom. She brushed her small, gently pointed teeth soundly, and washed her thin face in the cold tap. She patted her face dry with a thick, soft towel and smiled into the mirror. She brushed her short, dark hair into a straight little bob, then sorted through the hundreds of little crystal bottles for something with a light, clean scent and dabbed it onto her neck.

"Pansy, get down here!" Hermione reeled for a moment at the harsh, cruel sound of the woman's voice, then smiled at her pale, wan face in the large mirror.

Hermione took her time searching through the mostly black, grey and green clothing in the spacious wardrobe. She pulled on a little grey skirt and a black, sleeveless blouse that showed off her long, pale limbs. She gave herself a last, smiling glance in the mirror before she put on a disgusted, mean look to go speak to her new parents.

"Yes, Mum?" she asked politely, then grimaced at the confused look on the rotund woman's face. She put on a fierce frown. "What do you want?"

The woman looked at her strangely, then gulped the last of her drink. "We're spending the summer in France. That's where the Malfoy boy has gone off to. Unless it's going to hurt your little feelings to be around Draco." She sneered at the girl.

Hermione shook her head. "No, why would I mind?" She looked away as the woman gave her another long, hard look. Hermione put on her best Slytherin sneer and glared at the woman. "Are you going to buy me anything in France, or are you going to be cheap as usual?"

The woman let out a belly laugh. "I'll buy you something, you expensive little bugger. Get packing. We're leaving tonight." She waved the girl away and refilled her drink sloppily with the help of her short, thick wand.

Pansy lay in bed hours later, feverish and only partly conscious. The cat print pyjamas she wore were doused in sweat, and her wild hair stuck to her forehead in wet curls. Mrs. Granger hovered over the girl nervously, wiping the girl's exposed skin with a cool, wet cloth and praying silently to herself. Her daughter had never been so ill before, and she couldn't remember being more terrified in her life.

Dr. Chapman walked back into the room and closed the door soundly behind him. He glanced at the girl, then shook his head. "Mrs. Granger, I just don't understand what is causing this. She has no real symptoms, only the fever. You say she fainted twice today?"

The woman nodded her head gravely. "Twice in less than an hour. And she's been speaking so strangely; she's not herself at all. She was down yesterday, but I just thought it was her woman's time and let her be. I had no idea this was coming. It just happened." She looked at the girl with a pained expression, then dropped her eyes.

"I want to get her to a hospital. We'll need to run tests. It may be some kind of virus. Has she been out of the country recently?"

"No, she's only just got back from school last week. She was fine yesterday!" Mrs. Granger broke down in sobs, and the man lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You need to contact your husband. Would you like me to call for transport, or would you rather bring her yourself?"

She shook her head, and took a long shuddering breath in. "No, I'll take her. Thank you for coming."

"Just keep me informed on her condition, Mrs. Granger. Don't hesitate to call me if you have any concerns. Take care of yourself." The doctor packed up his bag and left the room, giving the girl on the bed one more puzzled glance before taking his leave.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione tapped her wand on her exposed knee, bored. "What is taking so long?"

"I don't know what's keeping that man, but you'll just have to wait. I don't want any more of your nonsense, or I'll pack you off to your cousin Gretchen."

Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought the woman might be threatening her, so she quieted and stared out over the field. She hated the idea of taking a portkey anywhere again after last year's fiasco, but there were no Weasleys or Potters to quarrel with this time. There was only this awful woman, and the idea of an even more awful man on his way. Hermione shrugged inwardly, and settled back, letting her skirt creep up on her thighs.

"I wish your father would hurry his wretched old arse up. I'm ready to just leave him behind, and let him fly over." The woman took a drink from the curved, silver flask she carried in her ill-fitting robe and let out a wet sigh.

"Maybe we should. Serves him right." Hermione had her eyes closed, watching the patterns of sunlight play off her eyelids. She smiled, thinking of what Pansy must be doing right now. Surely she would be half mad by this point, waking up in the body of a mudblood. She let out a little chuckle, then sat up and rubbed her eyes.

In the distance, she spied a hunched, grizzly older man making his way toward them. She motioned for the woman to look in his direction. "He has arrived."

"We were just about to leave you, you great buffoon. Get yourself over here." The large woman hefted herself off the grass and stomped over to the portkey. "Let's be off, then."

The three dark-haired Slytherins grabbed hold of the rusty tea kettle, and Hermione held her breath for the inevitable jerking pull.

"Where am I?" Pansy tried to sit up, but it felt as if she were covered in thin, smooth little snakes. She opened one brown eye and looked around the bright, white room for someone from whom to demand an immediate explanation.

"You're in the hospital. You've been ill." The Granger woman hovered over her bed, pushing her back gently onto the starchy pillows. "I wasn't sure I'd ever hear your voice again."

"Don't be so dramatic," croaked Pansy, and cleared her throat loudly with a hacking cough.

"You've been out for hours, Hermione. It's been nearly 22 hours since you fainted last." The woman sat heavily in a stiff backed chair beside the bed. "No one would tell me anything. They have no idea what is wrong with you."

"I'm in the wrong body, that's what's wrong. I don't belong here."

The woman looked at her with a mix of worry and pity, and patted her hand softly. "They'll figure out what it is, sweetheart."

Pansy jerked her arm away and winced as a sharp pain ripped through the top of her hand. She grimaced, and glanced at her hand warily. A long needle pierced the top of her hand, and a skinny tube filled with clear liquid snaked away to a pouch of the stuff hanging from a metal pole beside the bed. She looked at the woman incredulously. "You brought me to a MUGGLE hospital? Are you out of your mind?"

Mrs. Granger bit her lip. "I wasn't sure what I'd tell those others. I don't know anything about it, you know that. I couldn't possibly find that Mongo place, let alone know what to tell them when I got there."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "St. Mungo's, you mean? Muggles." She glanced around her. "Well, I'm fine now, so you can call in one of those muggles to take these things off of me. I want to be taken to my house."

"Hermione, I just don't know what you mean. Why do you keep talking so strangely? What happened to you?" She looked at the girl sternly. "Have you been experimenting with wizard drugs?" she whispered.

Pansy sighed loudly. "I told you, woman. Your daughter - that little bitch - has stolen my body and locked me into hers. You will take me to my house, I will find her, and I will have her fix whatever she has done to me."

Mrs. Granger nodded, a look of great concern coming over her face. "We can do whatever you want once the doctor has seen you again. I'm sure she'll want to speak to you."

"No, we're leaving now. Call one of them in. I'm ready to go home now," Pansy insisted, swinging her legs over the side of the hospital bed.

"Now Hermione -"

"Stop calling me that! My name is not Hermione. My name is Pansy Parkinson, I'm a pureblood witch, betrothed to Draco Malfoy - well, I was, until the prat broke it off. But I don't belong here, not in this body, not with you, and certainly not in some awful, ugly muggle hospital. I want to go NOW." The girl's face was contorted with rage, and her voice dripped with venom.

Mrs. Granger put a hand to her mouth, then stood up and gave the girl a halfhearted nod. "I just have to speak to the doctor, and then we can sign you out. Will you wait for me just a moment, Her - I mean, Pansy, did you say it was?"

The girl gave the woman an exasperated nod, then turned to study the tube running from her hand. Mrs. Granger left the room quickly to find a nurse with a strong sedative to calm the girl while she figured out what to do with her poor, addled daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

"Can we visit the Musee Lambinet?" Hermione asked, taking a dainty bite of a small, green apple and glancing about her at the historical architecture of Louis XV in awe.

"What, girl? Speak up." The old man was in foul spirits, partly from the fall from the portkey, but mostly from listening to the nonstop chatter of the two women.

"The museum of art and history in Versailles. It's not far." She took another loud bite of her apple and continued on, relishing in the sordid looks she was getting from the Frenchmen passing her.

"What do you care for art and history?" The woman looked at her carefully, with not a little bit of suspicion.

Hermione nearly choked on the apple she was noshing. She forced a large chunk of apple down her throat, trying to collect her wits. "It's only that Draco said he liked it. I was hoping I might see him there," she added lamely.

The woman seemed satisfied, gulping down the last of the foul-smelling amber liquid in the flask she carried. She tucked it away in her bosom, and continued on, taking the lead of the three.

Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief, and after a contemplative look, tossed the core of her apple at a rubbish bin nearby. She followed along behind the two silently for several minutes before she spotted a familiar blond head in the crowd. "Look, there's Draco."

The woman looked around, searching out the boy. "Where is he? I don't see him."

Hermione pointed at the arrogant, sneering boy. "Just there, past that awful woman with the pheasant on her head."

"I thought you two were quarreling?" The woman gave her a knowing look.

"I hope that we won't be by the end of our trip," Hermione said, returning the woman's look. "Draco!" she called out, waving above the crowd.

The boy looked around, annoyed at the invasion on his thoughts. When he spotted Hermione, his face seemed to drain of color, and he stopped mid stride. He gave her a halfhearted wave, and separated from the crowd to wait for the Parkinsons.

"Fancy seeing you here," Hermione said, and gave Draco a long hug.

He gave her parents a quizzical look, but returned the hug. Before she pulled away, he whispered, "Didn't you get my letter?"

"What letter?" Hermione gave him an innocent, puzzled look. "No matter, you can tell me what it said." She twined her fingers in his and gave him a toothy smile.

The boy shifted uncomfortably away from her, but left his hand in hers. He wasn't sure if she had gotten the letter, and was in denial of the contents, or if his stupid bird hadn't delivered it to her at all.

She leaned in closely, pulling him closer to her side, and whispered in his ear, her hot breath sending a shiver down his spine. "We should ditch them and find somewhere private, don't you agree?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Now?"

"What are you two whispering about? It's rude to whisper in the company of your elders." The old woman's badgering voice grated on the teenagers' ears.

"Draco and I would like to go see a museum, then have some lunch. Wouldn't we, Draco?" Hermione smiled sweetly, and looked from the Parkinsons to Draco.

Draco nodded mutely, shocked at his now ex-girlfriend's sudden sexual turnaround. He had begged, pleaded, and fought for months, nearly a year, for the girl to do as much as take her blouse off, and now here she was, ready to break away from her parents and lose her virginity in Versailles.

"I suppose so. We'll be staying just there." The woman pointed to a large hotel on a nearby street. "Back by dark, Pansy." She sent the two a warning look.

"Of course, Mother. Let's go, Draco. I hear they have new exhibits at the Musee Lambinet."

The young man was too shocked at her personality transplant to do more than nod and follow her, amazed at how he actually felt more than mildly attracted to her now that they were no longer together.

"I just don't know what to do about this. She's positively batty. She thinks she's someone else, and she's demanded to be brought to some family called Parkinson." Mrs. Granger dropped her head in her hands and sobbed.

"Rosanna, dear, please calm down. She's surely just mucked up one of her experiments." He patted her on the shoulder uncomfortably; Hugh Granger had never been one for strong emotions. He looked despondently at his only daughter, a girl who had always been of strong and sound mind. "Isn't Parkinson the name of that pureblood girl Hermione goes to school with? That mean little wench?"

"I don't know, Hugh, and I don't care. I wish we could get Dumbledore over here." She broke into a fresh round of sobs. "But no, those stupid Death Eaters were the end of him. Why did we even let her go to that stupid school? What were we thinking?" She stared up at him, a wildness in her eyes he hadn't seen in years.

"Calm down, dear, we can fix this. Who else? Who else could we call for help?"

"You can call my bloody mother and have her come get me." The girl in the bed sat up slowly, a sour expression on her drowsy face. "And while you're at it, you can get your stupid daughter over here to give me my body back."

"Hermione -" Hugh began.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT! My name is Pansy Parkinson. I am the daughter of Wilhelm and Descondia Parkinson. I am NOT your stupid, bushy-haired, buck-toothed, know-it-all little bitch of a daughter!" The girl's voice had reached a fever pitch, and a nurse rushed in with a full syringe.

"No! I won't have any more of that!" She jerked her arm away from the young, frightened nurse and spit in her face. "Get away from me, you bitch!"

"Hermione, please calm down!" Rosanna screeched, her hands over her ears.

"Just quiet down now, Miss Granger, and we'll have you back to yourself in a snap." The nurse bravely said, and stuck the needle of the syringe straight into the plastic tube connected to Pansy's arm.

"You can't do this to me, you bloody stupid muggles! When my parents find out about this, you'll all be..." The girl's frantic voice trailed off as the strong sedative started to work on her young body, and though she fought to keep her large, brown eyes open, she drifted back to sleep with one last huff.


	5. Chapter 5

"France is so lovely. Can you believe that we're here together?" Hermione smiled up at the stupefied boy as she led him by hand through a small park on the outskirts of a deserted village near Versailles.

"Where are we going, Pansy? I've never seen you like this before. What's gotten into you?" He pulled her arm to stop her brisk pace, and they settled down on a dilapidated but ornately carved bench.

"I feel like a new person -" She stopped herself before she called him Malfoy and gave herself away. "Draco, do you love me?"

"What?" He jerked his arm away reflexively and stared hard at the girl he thought he knew the last sixteen years.

Hermione frowned. "I always thought you did. Love me, I mean."

The young man's jaw dropped, and for a brief moment, he was rendered entirely speechless. "What is this about love, Pansy? I don't understand you lately. You never spoke of love before. You always acted as if... as if our betrothal, our relationship, all of it was a business deal, an arrangement for the good of both of us."

"But things are different now, Draco darling," she said, and twined her fingers around his again. "I'm a whole different person. I may look the same, but I'm not the girl you knew." She smiled and lay her head on his strong, muscular arm.

He stared at her for a long, exploratory moment, then let out a laugh. "You're a mind-boggling girl, that's for sure. What was that you were saying earlier about going to a museum?"

"Oh, yes. It's supposed to be absolutely lovely. Priceless objets d'art. But that's not where we're going, not today." She gave him a secretive little smirk.

He raised an eyebrow and returned her smile. For some reason, Pansy's smile had felt almost contagious of late. "So where are we going, then?"

She pointed a long, slender arm in the direction of the deserted little village in the near distance. "There. Ample privacy."

"And what will we be doing with said ample privacy?" He couldn't suppress the eager look that spread across his aristocratic features.

"Anything you want, love, anything at all." She stood, smiling, and pulled him up to follow her away from prying eyes.

"I don't know what's come over that girl," Mrs. Parkinson told her husband over an expansive dinner that evening. "She's acting so strangely. I feel like I'm talking to a foreigner, not my bullheaded daughter."

The man waved her words away with his fork, chawing on a large piece of seared meat. "Girls are more trouble than they're worth. Full of hormones, emotions running amok. To speak for myself, I'm quite happy with the way she's been acting. She's almost pleasant company." He shoved a large piece of unidentifiable food in his mouth and chewed thoughtlessly.

"But a museum? And I thought the Malfoy boy ended their relationship. Why are they so chummy all of a sudden?" The woman shoveled a spoon of the rich, creamy dessert into her large mouth.

He shook his head. "I don't know, and I don't care. If you ask me, the girl is better off the way she is now. The impertinent little cow was sure to drive me mad by the end of this trip." He gestured around them. "But look, we're alone, no nasally voice to disturb our meal. Why complain?"

"It's just not normal. A girl of her age doesn't change so suddenly. It's not natural."

"What's not natural is you questioning this, woman. Now shut your trap and eat your dessert. It's melting."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Pansy, but I like it." Draco pulled himself off the girl and lay back on the thick pillow and blankets they'd conjured in the abandoned little hut. "You hardly kissed me before."

"Hm, I guess I hadn't noticed. Things change, you know," she said, rolling from her back onto her side to take in the full loveliness of his unclad body.

"How do you go from a peck on the lips to sex in less than a month's time?" He laughed. "I don't care. It doesn't matter. I like the new Pansy." He glanced a kiss across her sweaty brow.

Hermione felt fantastic. For once in her life, she felt glorious, beautiful in her nakedness. She bit her lip and gave him a lascivious grin. "Round two?"

He laughed. "Not so soon. You've taken everything out of me already. Why don't we have that lunch you were talking about?"

She glanced out the uncovered little window, then shook her head, laughing. "I think we missed lunch, Draco."

He glanced out at the twilight descending upon Versailles and shrugged. "Dinner, then?"

"Sounds good. Let's get dressed. I saw the most quaint, adorable little restaurant earlier. It's just around the way from where I met you on the street." She pulled her tight blouse over her perky, unfettered breasts, admiring herself.

"Quaint? Adorable? Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" He stood pulled his trousers back on, laughing in a happy, comfortable way.

"Oh, stop questioning things. Just let things be." She stepped into her short skirt and turned to let Draco zip her up in back. He did, then wrapped his arms warmly around her middle. She leaned back against his chest, feeling his strong, slightly elevated heartbeat through her whole body.

He sighed, and kissed her neck. "Let's get going before we forget ourselves again and lose what's left of daylight."

"Where is that girl?" Mrs. Parkinson peeked nervously through the lace curtains into the moonlit streets. "I told her to be back before dark."

"She's with that boy. You know how teenagers will be. Come to bed, she'll get into her room. We've left instructions already with the man at the desk." He draped a hairy arm over his aching cataracts and let out a deep chest cough that racked his whole body.

"I wish you would see someone about that cough. You know that's just how your father went, with those bloody wretched cigars. See what you've done to yourself." She fretted, glanced once more through the curtains for a glimpse of her missing daughter, then trudged over to the bed and hefted her weight onto the large mattress.

"Stop hounding me, woman. I've heard enough of you today. You're making me wish Pansy was here, just for a break from your nonsense." He felt with his free arm for his wand on the bedside table, and flicked out the lights.


	6. Chapter 6

"Ugh, my head." Pansy slowly opened her eyes, wary of finding the muggles hovering over her again. Thankfully, the room was dark and empty. She breathed a sigh of relief, then listened to the sounds of the sleeping hospital. She rubbed her sore hand gently, careful not to touch the needle still pushed deeply into her flesh. With sudden resolve, she pulled off the sticky tape and ripped the needle from her hand, wincing at the blood that pooled around the wound. She looked around the room frantically for more appropriate garb: the thin hospital gown would mark her immediately for an MIA patient. She pulled on Hermione Granger's ugly, ill fitting clothes quickly, then stopped and held her breath to listen again.

"You can do this, Pansy. All you have to do is make your way to an exit, and leave." She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the stale hospital air, then exhaled slowly. She opened the door as quietly as she could, and peeked her head out quickly. The hall was empty, save for a muggle man in a wheeled contraption grumbling about something called gel-o. She filled her lungs again, then darted out of the room toward a door marked EXIT. She glanced behind her once more for the offending muggles, but didn't spy them before she reached the heavy metal door. She pulled it open and let out a laugh before she dashed to freedom, and all-encompassing darkness.

"Here we are, Pans. You should get inside before your parents have called the Ministry to report you missing." Draco gave her a crooked grin, and let his hand rest gently on her waist.

She waved his words away like so many gnats. "They don't worry about me, you know that. Besides, I'll have my own room. Surely they won't have me bunking with them. They'll be out by now. Mother's already drank half of the alcohol in France by now, I'm sure." She laughed gaily, and slipped her arms around his waist to run her fingers down the taut muscles of his lower back.

"Well, I need to be off myself. I'm sure Sna - er, well, I'm sure I'll be missed." He glanced around suspiciously for anyone listening in on their conversation.

"I know all about that, Draco. No worries. Come inside with me and help me get settled in, then you're welcome to go back to your precious professor." She laughed and pulled him inside the large, carved stone building.

The two teenagers stepped up to the desk where a man was napping, sprawled out with legs resting on the desk top. Hermione motioned with a finger to her lips for Draco to be quiet, then smashed her hand hard down on the bell in front of the man. He jumped up, jerked out of his sleep by the shrill sound, and landed spread-eagle on the floor. Hermione and Draco laughed heartily as she tried to explain that she had a room, but no key for entry. The man shook his head, grumbling in French, and handed her the key to her room with a deep set frown.

Hermione pulled Draco up the long, winding staircase, trailing him far enough behind her so that he had ample chance to stare directly up her skirt at her slightly damp, plain white knickers. When the reached the room, she twirled and pulled him close to her, planting a long, wet kiss on his lips before turning away and quickly slipping into her room. She blew him a kiss as she closed the door behind her, leaving him bemused and shaking his head on the other side.

She threw herself on the large, fluffy bed, sighing with contentment. She halfheartedly wondered if what she had done to Pansy was too cruel, even for a pureblood supremacist like the pug-nosed little witch. She shrugged to herself, then stretched out comfortably over the soft blanket and drifted quickly to sleep.

Though she was never more frightened and confused in her life, Pansy walked through the dark streets with her head held high, as if she belonged. She could not remember ever being in the muggy, lamp-lit streets of this particular muggle city, but she was confident that, in a pinch, she could easily stop and hold out her wand hand for the Knight Bus.

"Are you lost, little girl?" A man came striding up from the alley on her right, his disheveled clothing reeking of urine, alcohol, and the pungent odor of one who spends his days and nights on the streets.

She stepped back, repulsed, and closed her hand tightly over Hermione's wand that she had shoved in the girl's light coat. "I am no such thing. Get away from me, street rat." She turned away and made her way quickly, in large strides toward a brightly lit restaurant just a few metres away.

"Come on, love, don't be that way," he said, but made no move to come closer to the girl in front of so many potential witnesses.

"Just stay away from me, you filth!" she replied, and made a mad dash away from the man toward the brighter streets in front of her. Once far enough away that she felt almost safe again, Pansy looked all around her for muggles. Seeing none, she violently stuck out her wand hand for the Knight Bus.

"Hermione!" A police vehicle stopped just in front of her, and the Grangers came piling out. "What are you doing?"

"Getting away from you. Now leave me alone, don't come any closer!" she screeched, backing away with wand in hand.

"Hermione, we don't want to hurt you. We just want to help you, honey," Mr. Granger said, inching closer to the frightened girl.

"No you don't! You just want to bring me back to that stupid hospital. I won't go back, you understand?" She was backing up slowly, keeping a safe distance between herself and the offending muggles.

"Miss Granger, please calm down and come with us. Your parents just want to make sure you're not ill," the police officer said, walking towards her with his hands up to show her he held no weapon to harm her.

"I'm not Granger! Don't you people understand? Your stupid daughter did this to me, and I'm going to find her to fix this mess." She pointed her wand at the police officer, and then at the Grangers. "I'm not afraid to use this."

"Honey, that's only a stick. But you'll be all right now, there's no need to be afraid. Just let us take you back to the hospital." The man's voice was low, soothing, but Pansy was not impressed.

"Tell him, Grangers! Tell him what your daughter is. A filthy mudblood, a disgrace to witches all over the world!" The girl had backed herself into a corner, and though she threatened the muggles with her outstretched wand, she knew better than to attack. She would be expelled for sure.

"Officer, please, she's very sick," Mr. Granger said, pleading with the policeman.

"I can see that, sir," he replied, moving ever closer to Pansy. "Now dear, don't be a fool. We aren't trying to hurt you, we just want to help."

"You've said that all before, copper. It means nothing. None of you can help me! Only that stupid bitch Granger can fix this. I don't know how she did it, but she's going to pay dearly once I'm back to myself." Pansy glanced away, fuming at the nerve of the muggleborn girl, and gave the officer the opportunity he was waiting for.

The large man grabbed her in a bear hug, forcing her to drop the wand and moving toward the car. She struggled, fought, bit the man, kicked him in the shins, but to no avail. He gingerly placed her in the back of the vehicle, and Mrs. Granger got in quickly behind her and slammed the door. Mr. Granger took the front passenger seat, and the officer took the wheel and began driving them slowly back from whence she came.

Hermione awoke to bright sunshine beaming down on her face. She sat up, stretched, and swung her bare legs off the side of the bed.

"You look rested."

She jumped off the bed and swung around, horrified that someone could gain entrance into her room. She let out a long sigh and sat back down once she spotted Draco in a chair in the corner of the room.

"You scared me out of my wits!" she laughed, scolding him with her finger.

"It's not difficult." He smiled. "Sleep well?"

She nodded, then lay back with her head propped on her arm. "How did you get in?"

"A simple matter of bribing the doorman. Breakfast?" He grinned and stood up in a languid stretch.

"Sounds like a plan. Have you seen my parents?" she asked.

He shook his head in negation, and hefted her large suitcase onto the bed beside her. "You should change. You look a mess." He grinned and sat down, running a hand along her side.

"Your fault, I assure you." She unzipped the bag and rifled through it, finally deciding on a black skirt and a green, button up blouse. She pulled her clothes off slowly, allowing Draco full view of her nudity before redressing leisurely.

The young man took in all the contours of her slim body, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Down boy. We're out for breakfast, remember?" She grinned and threw yesterday's skirt at him.

"Fine, breakfast then. Where do you want to go today?" He ran long, tapered fingers through his hair, today worn loose without his normal controlling gel.

"I want something sweet. Then we can go to the museum. I really do want to see it." She ran a brush through her poker straight hair, then tossed it back in her bag.

"What HAVE you done with Pansy?" He raised an eyebrow and gave her a heart-melting half smile.

"Locked her in a broom closet. Now come on, before we miss breakfast." She slipped on a pair of comfortable black clogs and walked to the door. "Are you coming?"

"I wish," he said, laughing, then joined her at the door.


	7. Chapter 7

_Pansy felt a cold hand caress her face, and opened her eyes. She was no longer in the muggle hospital, but her situation seemed more grim. The room around her, with its cold, damp walls, drafty corners, and various macabre knickknacks was more than familiar. This was Professor Snape's personal quarters in the Hogwarts Slytherin dungeons. But it was if the lights weren't all lit, and a large portion of the room beyond she couldn't make out. She reeled out of her reverie as a voice came out of the darkness in front of her, and if her throat hadn't suddenly closed almost completely, she would have screamed._

_"Miss Parkinson, you're late." The man came into her view more quickly than her mind reasoned a normal person could without the signature pop of apparating. His walk was jerky, convulsive, and altogether bizarre, as if controlled by the strings of a giant puppeteer. "You have only three days left, girl. Use them wisely."_

_"I - Three days for what?" she whispered, gingerly stepping forward._

_"You are as stupid as I remembered. The transfer! You have only three days until you will no longer be able to switch." The apparition snarled out his words, but Pansy was becoming less fearful all the time; this was the Snape she remembered._

_"How will I do it, sir?"_

_He rolled his eyes dramatically, a long, green trail of slime running down his neck. "You must reverse the spell, you empty-headed girl!" As he spoke, he seemed to shimmer and his whole body became hazy, blending in with the shadows around them._

_"But what is the counter spell?" she cried, reaching out for him. Before she could get a firm grasp on his slimy robe, he was gone, and all she held was air._

Mrs. Parkinson scowled at the girl, then gave the boy a suspicious look. "Been out all night, have you?"

Hermione put on her best pout. "Of course not, Mother. The things you expect of me are heinous." She flipped her hair away from her face and sat down at the little table.

"We got in late. Time just ran away from us, I'm afraid." She glanced around, mildly irritated. "Where is that server?"

"Probably off shagging the chef. Stop changing the subject, Pansy." The woman continued to scowl at her only child as if the girl was an out-of-line employee. "What could the two of you have possibly found to keep you out so late here? You've been so many times I'm surprised you can find anything amusing at all."

Hermione rolled her eyes and squeezed Draco's knee under the table. "We haven't been in a while. Things change." She smiled. "Ah, here is the server now."

Mrs. Parkinson frowned, but turned to the server and began to bark her order in loud, disjointed French. The girl scrabbled to write down the heartily misunderstood order, then turned to the two other occupants of the table with a pained look.

Hermione ordered a sweet pastry dish, and Draco had a full French breakfast. Their drinks came promptly, and the teenagers took the opportunity to drink insatiably as to not have to speak again to the suspicious woman. Occasionally, Hermione gave Draco's foot a light caress with hers as they ate, which kept the young man content through the whole trying ordeal.

"I don't know why it must insist on being so dreadfully muggy in this place." The woman's attention had diverted thankfully to the trials of Versailles by the end of their meal.

"I hear it's dreadful in England just now. Thick, sticky fog, and they say it hasn't stopped raining in a week." Draco finished off his juice and unconsciously rubbed his full stomach.

"Yes, well, I wish the weather would improve somewhere, at least." The woman let out a disheartened huff and turned her attention to the server to demand the check.

"Draco and I are going out again today." Hermione announced, dropping her fork, contented.

"I don't think that's wise, Pansy," her mother replied, picking her teeth with a knife.

Hermione frowned. "But Mother, I'm only young once. Haven't you spent so many years telling me that?"

"Well of course that's true, but shouldn't you be spending time with your family, not a convict?" She gave Draco a little smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's not a convict. And I spend enough time with you and Father bossing me at home. We're going to explore the other side of the city, right Draco?" She smiled at him sweetly.

"Of course. But I will sincerely try to have her back by dark today." He gave the woman a winning, innocent smile.

She frowned, but shook her head and waved them away. "Go, be young and stupid. You haven't much time left for that."

Pansy woke with a start, sitting up quickly, Snape's name on her lips. She took a sharp breath in, and reeled at the brightness of the room around her. She was back in the hospital room, back in Hermione Granger's body, and she lay back on the thin pillow in distress. What did Snape mean? She had heard about certain wizards being able to invade one's mind at will, but the accounts had never been so bizarre. Could he have died, carrying Draco away from the castle so hastily to some safety far away? She could still smell the sickly sweet aroma of his dripping, pasty body here. Either way, what her longtime professor had said could not but be true. She had three days to get her body back before she would be stuck the mudblood girlfriend of a Weasley and the best chum of that disgusting little Potter idiot. She groaned, which caught the attention of the muggles sitting at the far end of the room.

"Hermione, you're awake," the woman said, coming forward timidly.

"Are you feeling better, darling?" The man followed behind her, and stood at her shoulder.

Pansy looked from one to both, then managed a weak smile. "Yes, I think I am. I feel more myself."

The muggles looked to each other with happy, excited expressions.

"But I think that my hallucinations were telling me something. I need to find Pansy Parkinson. She must be in trouble."

The man shook his head. "I don't think you're in any condition to do such a thing, darling. You've only just come out of a terrible fever. You've been asleep now another 26 hours."

Pansy's eyes widened. "How long have I been sick... exactly?"

"Four days, honey." The woman came closer to take the girl's hand. "And you were so terribly ill."

Pansy nodded, calculating the time she had left in her head: less than 48 hours. "I really think Po- I mean, I think Harry and Ron would want to know about this. It might have something to do with You Know Who." She gave the muggles a knowing expression.

They looked to each other in concern and doubt. After a long moment, the woman turned back to her and nodded her consent. "If the doctor thinks that you are well, you can go see Harry and Ron about this Parkinson girl. All right?"

Pansy nodded, and smiled at the muggles. Stupid as they are ugly, she thought to herself. She watched the two out the door to find a doctor, then lay back with her head propped on her bent arms, grinning.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione and Draco sat beside the Grand Canal in the Parc de Versailles, contented after a large breakfast and a horse-drawn carriage ride.

"It's so beautiful here," she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

"It is. I've always loved France; it's where I belong. But haven't you always complained about being here, that you would rather be in another country entirely?"

She shrugged. "It's amazing how so much can change in such a short period of time."

"Why are you so cryptic now?" He looked at her with such concern that Hermione was stung. This boy actually cared about the girl she was impersonating, and she had taken such horrible liberties with her powers that it made her sick.

"I can't explain, Draco. You wouldn't understand."

He shoved his hand through his hair in a fierce swipe. "I don't understand anything about you - nothing. You're an entirely different girl. You've changed so much that I just... I don't know, Pans. You're acting so strangely, but I like it; don't get me wrong." He sighed. "I have to tell you, before I saw you here, I had really given up on a relationship with you. I sent you a letter." His shoulders slumped and he let out another defeated sigh. "I broke up with you, Pansy. But I saw you, and you were just so different... You didn't acknowledge the letter at all. I assume you didn't get it?"

She froze. "No."

He nodded, then looked away. "You've changed so much, a complete metamorphosis. You were always so cold, Pans. But now you're not. You're fun, you're witty - you actually seem to enjoy being with me! What happened to change everything?"

She looked down at her clenched fists in her lap, biting her lip. What could she say? She couldn't actually tell him the truth, that was completely out of the question. It was all a prank, a joke, a little fun with the queen bitch of Slytherin. And, she had to admit in looking at him, that it was a chance to be with Draco Malfoy. Without reservations, without blood incompatibility, without old wrongs and hurt feelings.

Hermione sighed. "Draco, there's something I really need to tell you."

"You're damn right there is, you cow!" Hermione and Draco whirled around simultaneously to see Pansy (or rather, Hermione, in appearance) standing behind them.

Hermione choked and jumped back, scrambling to her feet and raising her wand. Draco stood slowly, staring the girl down, sizing her up for a battle of wits or wands.

Pansy smirked. "You thought you could get away with it, didn't you, Granger?" She stared entirely at Hermione, ignoring Draco as if he didn't exist. "You stole my body, you stole my life!" She relaxed, sliding her hands into her pockets, and laughed. "Have you been having a lovely time with my ex-boyfriend?"

Hermione stared at Pansy, breath stopped in her chest. She was at a complete loss of words. How could she defend herself? She straightened to her full height and stared coldly at Pansy. She put as much venom as she could manage into her words, spoken slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about, mudblood." She emphasized the last, staring Pansy straight in the eyes.

The girl drew a sharp breath. Her face contorted with rage, and for a moment Hermione wondered if she'd ever looked like that before. Pansy turned to Draco. "Have you been having fun with the mudblood, Draco? I have to say, you look rather chummy."

Draco stared daggers from one to the other, backing away from both and raising his wand. "I don't know what in the hell is going on, but someone is going to explain this RIGHT NOW."

Pansy turned to Hermione. "Will you, or shall I?"

Hermione glared at the girl, then turned to Draco. "Remember what you said about the metamorphosis?"

Draco nodded, and Hermione flicked her wand and muttered an incantation. The girls seemed as if pulled by invisible strings toward each other, then bounced apart with a small explosion of light and a loud CRACK.

Hermione, in her true body, turned to the two Slytherins. She spoke as if in recitation from a book. "Now we are returned to ourselves." She grimaced. "It's from an old spell, dating back to the 1300s."

Draco's grey eyes were all black with pupil, and widened to their full capacity. "The Somes Professius spell? Are you bloody joking?" The boy sat back down on the grass as if pressed by a giant weight.

"No, she's not joking, whatever the hell she's spouting about. I've been locked up in a stupid muggle fucking hospital for days! All because your stupid muggle parents are so concerned for their beloved little mudblood daughter."

Hermione glared at her. "You deserved every bit of that and more, you stupid cow. I'll never be as pretty as you, but I am most definitely more intelligent. I use my brains, unlike you, you ungrateful, spoiled, selfish, cruel little bitch." Hermione walked forward quickly, stabbing her wand under Pansy's chin at the tender flesh covering her jugular vein.

"You are ugly. You're an ugly, filthy little mudblood, and you always will be." She sneered, despite her precarious situation. "I know why you did it. It was all about Draco, wasn't it?" She let out a laugh, but it strangled in her throat as Hermione shoved the wand harder against her neck. "All you wanted was my stupid boyfriend. The joke's on you, Granger, because he already broke our engagement. You could have had him, you stupid cow."

Hermione glared at her, and cataloged the various malicious hexes she knew in her mind's eye.

"Can we stop and think here, Granger?" Draco stepped up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "There's no need for this. I'm already in trouble, but neither of you need that kind of problem." He sighed. "There are so many tragedies in store for us yet."

Hermione jabbed Pansy once more in the neck with her wand, then backed away. She lowered the wand, but kept it in her hand.

"That's right, go with Draco. That's all you've ever wanted. Well, you can have him. I don't want him back; I have what I came for." She turned and took a few steps away, then glanced over her shoulder. "You'll pay for this, Granger. And Draco," she smiled, "See you at school." She faced forward again and walked away from the two, rubbing her neck and grumbling about finding her parents.

Hermione and Draco walked back into the east end of Versailles in relative silence. They spoke hesitantly, very occasionally, about the weather, and the lovely sights that the French natives take for granted in their everyday lives.

They settled to rest on a little bench in view of a large, decorative fountain. They watched the water trickle down for several minutes, both too confused to know where to start an actual conversation.

"I don't know what to say." Draco glanced at her under a long fringe of hair the wind had blown onto his forehead. "The last few days have been amazing. And it wasn't her. It was you. It's..."

"Bizarre." She gave him a halfhearted smile. "I know." She frowned and looked away, her shoulders dropping in a sigh. "It started as a prank, you know, just a joke on her. And you." She chewed on her lip, pausing to regather her jumbled thoughts. "But it turned into something else. I had no idea what it would become."

"You're preaching to the choir, Granger. I know what it turned into, I just can't believe it. I don't understand how this could happen. I mean, you think you really know someone, but you have no idea." He shook his head, bewildered.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, not really." Hermione felt like she shrunk two sizes in his piercing, grey stare. "I was going to end it so many times, but I was just -"

"Having so much fun that you didn't want to?" he finished for her.

She nodded and stared at her open hands, her voice small. "Despite everything, despite what we've done to each other, and the differences between us, we actually get on quite well."

He nodded, and fixed his eyes on the bubbling fountain. "Maybe in a different life, if we weren't who we are, we could have something. But in this life, we just can't." His voice took on a tearful quality at the end, and he cleared his throat sharply. "You have to understand that we can't be together."

She was silent for several moments. When she spoke, her voice was stronger, unemotional. "So we just go back to life as usual?"

He let out a humorless laugh. "That's the plan."

She nodded and stood up, squinting down at him in the bright sunlight. "See you, Malfoy. It's been... amazing." She took in as much of his face as she could in her last glimpse, the look in his eyes that she knew she would never see again, and stored it in her memory for later. Later, when doing what was expected just wasn't enough, when life as usual became too much to cope with, they would always have France.


End file.
